Bankotsu's Story
by anastasia546
Summary: Bankotsu's POV: This is the story of Bankotsu.Starting as a child. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey! Well, I'd like to say that this is my first fanfic and I apologize if the spacing is weird or if I mess anything else up. I'd love some feedback so please, send me a review._

_Also; the reason I chose Bankotsu instead of some other character (such as one that lived, maybe) was because I liked him. I don't think he deserved to die the way he did. _

_This chapter is basically an introduction to the story. Please, be patient with my storytelling._

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><p>"Bankotsu. It's time for dinner, come eat!"<p>

My mother called me, her voice reaching my ears moments after my stomach growled. Mother always had good timing. I stood up and began running to our home. She was waiting just outside the door, smiling at me.

Mother smiled all the time. She was always smiling. "Smiling keeps the demons away," she used to say. I always believed her. Even now, even though-

No. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Mother was always smiling. She said it kept the demons away. I always believed her, because mother was the only one I trusted. "What's for dinner, Mother?"

"Just some fish, Bankotsu. Nothing special."

She was wrong. Fish was special. Meals at all were special, at least in the conditions we lived in. Father was never home, or at least, almost never home. I was only ten, and more often than not I had to feed us both. Mother did her very best. She would do whatever she could to get us food, but not many people wanted to hire her. They had their own ways of getting their necessities and there was virtually nothing my mother could do that would improve their lives even a little. So we had many food-less 'meals'.

But as Mother would say, we mustn't be greedy. They earned what they had. We must make our own way.

She ushered me inside and sat me on the floor, and then walked outside to get the fish. Mother wouldn't cook in the house. 'Fire is a hazard, Bankotsu. And anyone who thinks it's safe is a hazard to themselves, and all around them.' It didn't take long before we were sitting down. She handed me my fish and then prayed.

"Why do we pray, Mother?"

"We must always pray, Bankotsu."

"Why Mother?"

"Our faith assures our afterlife."

She firmly believed in an afterlife. Mother would always tell me about heaven before I fell asleep, which would fill my dreams with vibrant pictures of any happy times I've had in my life. Mother and I eating our meager dinners. Mother and I laughing. Mother and I playing a child's game. Mother and I talking. Mother and I- doing just about anything.

"Mother, why is Father never home?"

Any question about my father would bring a wishful glint into my mother's eyes. "Your father is a good man, Bankotsu. Don't ever think badly of him. Promise me you won't ever think badly of him."

"I promise Mother."

That is one of the two promises I would break.

I finished my fish all too quickly, and Mother insisted that I put the questions to rest for the night. She them sent me out to play, but bade me be back before the sun went down.

I ran outside and called for my friend. She quickly approached.

A cat. Her eyes were florescent green and her pelt was calico. My only friend, her name was Cat. I hadn't chosen to name her Cat, the people of the village had. Cat was a better-than-decent rat hunter, and quite well liked by the village. Not only that, she was clever.

"Hello Cat." I'd greet her, then before you knew it I'd be lying down- maybe watching the clouds- and she's snuggle in the crook of my arm.

It would get dark, and I'd have to go inside. When it was dark the demons would come, preying on the men, women, and children of the village. If I didn't come home before dark Mother would search for me, and then the demons may get her. Even though I was only ten, I knew that if Mother died I would never be able to live with myself.

So I returned faithfully each night before dark, when Mother would lay me down to sleep and tell me stories of the mortal heaven.

"Heaven, Bankotsu, is for those who believe. It's for those that pray and hope and love. You do not have to be completely good to go to it, like some monks and other holy men may believe. No. All men are worthy of being redeemed. Heaven isn't as choosy as we humans. And it is more loyal than we ever are. It will wait for you, even if you lose your way. It will wait for you until you leave this world."

Then she'd tell me that love and hope were not just essential to making it to heaven, but they also help you live a full life. Before I fell asleep each night she would kiss my forehead and say quietly, "I wish you a full life, my son."

Life with my mother was good. It was loving, and hopeful, and promising. Then Father would come home, and it would be even happier.

It went on like that, quiet and peaceful. But as all good things do, it ended.


	2. Chapter 2

_This chapter features the interesting debut of Bankotsu's father. I don't know about you readers (if there are any of you), but this chapter is maybe a little rushed. If you agree, tell me so in the review... And I'll be careful to slow down._

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><p><p>

"Where's my family?" A rough, masculine voice demanded. Even before the question was finished, I knew who it was. Father. He was home!

"Father!" I cried, jumping at the silhouette in the doorway. I got closer, and I could see the blue of his eyes and the tan of his skin. He didn't hug me, in fact, he pushed me away with a warning glance.

"Never around others son. Not where they can see you. People will think they can take advantage of your kindness. That you're weak," Father explained as he held me at bay. Of course, Father had a good reason for acting as he did. He would always explain why we must act cold.

Father and Mother never acted cold, though. Mother would rush into the room and, before even I knew it, she was telling him of all the silly little escapades I'd conveyed to her at some point while he'd been away.

He would smile warmly and nod. Never really taking much of an interest in what I did but at the very least pretending to. Mother was just happy he was home, she didn't bother paying attention to his attentiveness. After all, he came home. He didn't just leave us.

And, as she would say if I'd asked, we should be grateful.

One thing I'd learned quickly was that anything we had was something to be grateful for.

After Mother's stories were shared, Father would tell her about all the people he'd seen and any demons he'd helped slay.

Father was part of a traveling band of warriors. The point of the whole group existing was apparently to slay demons and protect people. Of course, this meant my father would be out helping **others** instead of his family. After I thought about it awhile; I swore to myself I'd never get a penchant for wandering, or killing demons. I'd never leave my house.

Another promise I'd break. This time, a promise to myself.

What Father's weapon was, I don't know. I never saw it. Or, if I did, I don't recall. All I know is that whenever I went out to play while he was home strange men would come up to me, smile, and engage me in conversation.

Some of these men were extremely dull. And they couldn't answer a fourth of my questions, let alone enough to satisfy my curiosity. On occasion I would snarl at their ignorance, and my sharp tongue would get me into trouble. Some men would pick me up and throw me, others would be content with spitting on my shoes.

They were being ignorant, and their methods were ineffective in teaching me. If anything, it only made me burn with the desire to prove myself even more. However, when Father left, so did they.

Eventually, though, I discovered that it was best to keep everything I knew in my head, away from the people who would bash my skull in for saying things they thought were ignorant. Their own ideas only proved how close-minded they were.

One day, I wandered home to mother, my eyes both black. A couple of kids my age didn't think my opinions were very good, or enlightening. I'd given it my best shot, though. Even now I remember it. My first fight.

One grabbed my arms and tried to hold me while the other took his small, meaty fist and hit my face five times. That was all the encouragement I needed to pull my arms forcefully from behind me and catch the one actually assaulting me off guard, punching him in the nose.

The force flung him backward and I turned on the one behind me. He swung, and I grabbed his hand, deigning to simply push him into the ground and flee. As my feet pounded the ground I could hear them both chanting that I'd run away, but I knew better. I could've taken them. It would not have been fair.

For them. I would've beat them both to a pulp. It would've been easy. But Mother, what would she have said?

I knew. I could hear her voice long before I got to my house. 'Bankotsu. Fighting without a greater goal is wrong. That plays no part in hoping, praying, or loving.'

When I got inside Mother was brushing her hair, singing a song. Maybe it wasn't even a song. Maybe it was a chant. I couldn't tell, my head was pounding from abuse. Was she praying?

She stood up when she heard my footsteps. Then she looked at me. At first, her eyes didn't even register the bruises. She just... looked at me. In a way that made me feel... Like I was alive. Like I existed. I smiled through my

It lasted for a split second. Then her brown eyes widened in alarm at my fat lip and the quickly-forming black spots on both my eyes. "Bankotsu!" she cried, mouth opening in shock. "What happened to you?"

I licked my swollen bottom lip. "I got into a scuffle. Nothing big, Mother. I promise."

"Bankotsu." she murmured, inspecting my face. She gingerly pulled my cheek down to show my eye more. "This looks like much more than a little scuffle. I shudder to think what the boys you fought left with." she touched my mouth. "And you're bleeding."

"It's nothing. Just a scratch." I batted her hand away. "And I didn't fight back. Not really. I only did what I needed to to get away."

"Bankotsu." she backed away, suddenly serious. "Promise me. Please, promise me you'll not fight again. Not unless you have to. I don't want you to fight." Tears sparkled in her eyes as she spoke, and I could feel how important this was to her. It was emanating, floating in the air, making it difficult to breathe, to see, and I could barely choke out;

"I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all. Thus far I've typed three chapters and I hope you are enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing. I think this is a fairly good chapter, at least, I'm happy with how it's turned out.  
>Please, read and review. =3<em>

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><p>I must've been fourteen when it happened. Father decided I needed to learn how to wield a weapon, that's when I met Banryu.<p>

It was a damp day in the middle of spring. Father had come home the night before, and hadn't said a word to me the whole night. Rather, he woke me up early the next morning and drug me roughly out of bed when I was still half asleep. "Wake up Bankotsu. It's time for you to start training."

"Training?" I questioned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What training?"

My father's upper lip curled. "Your training to become a warrior."

I could feel the mist cling to my face as he practically carried me to what he claimed were the 'training grounds'. I wasn't really paying attention. In addition to the weather, my brain was also clouded with the fog of sleep.

When I did open my eyes I saw many weapons lain out in front of me. "Normally, the warrior would pick his own weapon. However, since you are my son, and therefore have standards to live up to, I have chosen for you. Your weapon shall be this halberd." he pointed to a... giant sword? It was huge. Two, maybe three times my fourteen-year-old size.

Before I could bite my tongue I was talking, "Father! There's no way I'll ever be able to lift that!"

Without looking I knew he turned towards me. I cringed, expecting a reprimand. Or maybe one of Father's rare cuffs. Neither came. I tentatively opened my eyes to see him towering in front of me. And he was lifting halberd banryu with both hands. "If I can, you can."

Father pushed banryu into my hands, which fell like a dead weight. "It's so... heavy," I grunted, attempting to lift the blade above my knees.

The halberd struggled above my feet, but I could feel the muscles in my back complaining with every half inch. "I can't!"

The weapon fell to the ground as I released it from my hands, which, upon closer inspection, were red from strain. "That thing is huge! How will I ever hope to wield it?" tears threatened my eyes. I had never let Father down before. Never this directly. I wiped them away, hoping he hadn't seen them.

No such luck.

"Bankotsu. What did I tell you about showing your emotions?"

"People will take advantage of my kindness." I said softly, almost too quietly. Father heard me, though. He always hears. And he never fails to tell you, whether it be through facial expressions or words.

This time he decided to shoot me a disappointed look. One I'd hoped never to have to see. Father's disappointment hurt more than his strikes.

I can't tell you exactly how long it took for me to master carrying banryu, let alone being able to use any battle attacks, but Father was there through the whole thing. Even when he was away. I could hear his voice and see his face. Especially when I trained. And when I wasn't training? I knew I should be.

Every time Father came back I would show him my progress with banryu. He seemed thoroughly impressed each time, and never failed to praise my efforts. We never spoke of anything other than training, and more often than not he'd cuff me for being smart. But he was my father, and I still wasn't ready for it.

One day, when I was fifteen, Father didn't come back. None of his band did.

There was a tale coming from almost all around that they had been battling a large demon, and they couldn't overcome him. The horror story of the battle that followed was not passed down to me, even though I was an adult.

My mother had sunk into a deep depression. Some people thought she was possessed, and they wanted to kill her. I refused. I couldn't let them. But with Mother not moving from that shredded, bloody piece of cloth...

I know. I get it. It was all that was left of Father. She needed to cling to it, as sick as it was. The blood that stained it was _his._ And it was all she had left. The only thing keeping her from complete and utter heartbreak.

The question was, what was keeping me?

Perhaps it was because I didn't often speak to my father. That could've been it. Or maybe he wasn't all I had in the world, like Mother. Mother would often talk to him. As though he were still alive. Her senseless babble filled every night in my house. It permeated every meal we had together. She'd be talking to this man who wasn't there. A ghost. I think maybe the worst part was that I was there, and she didn't notice.

I was just waiting for Mother to come back to me.

Suddenly I was doing the praying before every meal. Suddenly I was alone in finding all of the food. All too quickly I was caring for us both, yet I still had my own mourning to do. Mother, however, wasn't functioning. I was all too busy trying to bring us the neccessities of life.

I never did properly mourn the loss of my father. Perhaps I should have. The man did teach me how to fight, after all.

Well. Now is not a time for regrets.

I suppose you could say my initial sorrow at Father's death, having never properly been released, could have led to the festering anger that grew inside of me as I progressed as a warrior. My fighting became even better as I imagined fighting the only person who'd ever led me to believe they'd be there, only to find out they wouldn't.

I'd pretend I was fighting my father. And, every time, I'd win.


	4. Chapter 4

_So... this chapter made me sad to write. But it had to be done._

_Read, review, and enjoy..._

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><p>Demon activity had been unusually high lately.<p>

By 'lately' I mean shortly after Father, and the rest of the band, were vanquished. Lesser demons were swarming because they had no fear of anyone with skills bothering to take them out. At least, that's what they _thought._

I was around, and this was my village too. I refuse to let them take over, or to even try. I would fight to the death, if it came to it. My mother needed me.

Of course, I always won, so it didn't matter how often or how hard I fought. I would win, then- depending on the demon- I'd take some of the meat home for a meal. Some things you didn't want to eat- no matter how hungry you were.

I was the only trained fighter, so the kids who tried beat me up? They were begging me to help them. It was amusing, I suppose. But there wasn't really any _time_ to think about it. I was either killing, cooking, or sleeping.

Life was as normal as it ever would be now, without Father. And after a while, mother even began functioning again. She would look at me, and see _me,_ not Father. The shredded bit of cloth would be left on the table, and she'd go out to do laundry. I'd come home, and hear her singing again. Life was finally as it should be.

Then, when we were finally happy, they attacked.

It came out of nowhere. If I hadn't been training with halberd at the time, I probably would have died, too. Different demons, small and large, came from all around, swarming the village. My village. The one I was supposed to be protecting. Where were the villagers? More importantly, where was Mother?

I realized what must be going on. She couldn't fight. I ran the up the trail to the house, killing innumerable amounts of hellish creatures on the way. The whole time, hoping and praying that the demons appearing from under every rock and behind every tree hadn't gotten to her. That she was okay.

She wasn't in the house. As soon as I entered that was painfully obvious. But if not here, then where?

I ran out, down to the river. There I found her. The.. _things _were already picking her apart. Getting them off was no problem. Banryu slashed through all their worthless hides. Their bloodthirsty, pathetic, life-ruining hides.

I crouched down to look at her. Mother. The long, black hair she'd cared for meticulously was knotted from the encounter. Her eyes were closed. Frail frame covered in red, throat slashed open to reveal the meat. I refused to accept it. Gathering her into my arms, brushing her hair aside, I stubbornly asked her to awaken.

"Come on now, Mother. Wake up. I can't carry you if I'm going to get us out of here." I shook her gently. I couldn't stay here. The demons were coming. "Mother?"

Her eyes opened, half lidded. The eyes that showed were veiled, disoriented, definitely not looking at reality. She focused at me, and gurgled. An attempt to speak. I shushed her, told her to save her strength. Just be calm, and she would stay with me. She'd be okay.

I promised.

She started relaxing, getting ready. Preparing to leave me.

"Mom, no. Don't go anywhere. Focus. I'm right here. It's me, Bankotsu. Mother?" even I could hear the nervous, child-like tone in my voice. After all I'd done to train, to protect her. To protect everyone. I was going to lose the only one that mattered.

I felt her hand weakly brush aside a strand of my long hair. She didn't try to speak. Maybe she knew what would come out. Bubbles of red, and they'd only hurt us both.

I felt her go. I knew that once the ultimate decision came, fight to be with me or just let go, she chose let go. Father chose let go. They people who I'd followed and trusted-even protected when I could- they'd both left me.

Alone.

My body stood. My hands raised halberd, and even my mouth shouted out the name before I knew what I was doing.

_Dragon Thunder._


	5. Chapter 5

I looked back at the carcass of my mother. Her luxurious black hair knotted, her throat slashed open, the eyes once so full of love glazed over. 

I know what I should've done. I should have picked her up, brushed her hair, and buried her. That maybe would have put my mind to rest. But, deciding for once to heed my father's words, I left her there. I showed no compassion. She was left to rot.

That was the worst decision I've ever made. And that is from one who has made many, many bad decisions.

I didn't know where to go from here. Everyone I cared about was dead. Mom with her smiles, songs, and lessons. Father, with his rules and strict tone. She gave me love, he made me strong. Without them, who was I?

That's when my gaze fell on halberd. The demons had slaughtered my whole village. But I had killed them. A demon had stolen my father, but there was nothing I could do about that. What was a demon life worth? Or even a human life, for that matter? Both were easily taken. Neither was appreciated by the other.

I lifted my weapon, and vowed to be neutral, that I would be fair in who dies. Then, taking a breath, I made a promise to my weapon over the bodies of the demons I slaughtered and the people they killed, if I could kill both 1000 people, and 1000 demons, my halberd banryu would gain the power of all those killed.

After all was said and done I ambled around the village, searching for someone-anyone- that was alive. Unsurprisingly, I found no one. However, something surprising did happen.

A traveler, not much older than me, caught my eye. He was kicking the dead body of a child. Not a child I knew. But still, he was human. And I had a chance to start my count. Lifting my weapon, I charged with a war cry.

The man turned, smirking as though he'd been ready and waiting for a survivor. Reaching onto his back to grab his sword.

Something was wrong. Banryu was way larger than what was being pulled out of the sheath. Instinctively, I ducked. As expected, the sword had an ability. Blades shot off and slashed where my head had been moments before.

I shot up and slashed at him. Or- where he was. The man had already moved. "_You're _the sole survivor?" he asked, laughing. "I thought that there'd be someone who could at least put up a fight!"

Instead of blocking the next whip-like shot, I dashed to the side and slashed down. The blades crashed to the ground with a loud clatter, and I stood stock still, face emotionless, then spoke, "Yes. I am Bankotsu, the sole survivor of this demon attack. I am also the murderer. Soon I'll add you to my count."

The man grinned, sheathing his weapon. "I like you." he laughed. "The name's Jukotsu, Mr. Sole-Survivor."


	6. Chapter 6

_Firstly, I want anyone reading & reviewing to know I really do appreciate anything and everything said. Please, do both!  
>Secondly, This is where Jakotsu starts talking more. Alright, let's see if I can control two characters.<em>

__"Jakotsu?" I asked, wary. I didn't know if I wanted to trust him yet- or ever. After all, a second ago he was trying to kill me. But then, I laughed, throwing Banryu over my shoulder. Which left me wide open, if he wished to attack me now. "Nice to meet you!"

You may think I'm crazy, or have a death wish. Neither. I simply recognized that, if necessary, I could easily overpower the man.

"Hm. The pleasure's mine, Bankotsu." he laughed, tromping over and easily grasping my hand. "You know, you're rather cute."

I blinked twice. He was a man, right? By all appearances. "Cute?"

"Oh, I have this thing with my love interests. Nothing big. Besides, I tend to favor people older than me, not younger." he explained, as though that should be a let-down. "So, this was your village?"

I nodded, and to my surprise, a scowl flicked across my face. "Yes, but they were all scum. Besides," I looked away. "Even if they had all mattered to me, I couldn't save them. So, I've decided to go the other way."

"Other way?"

"Yeah. The gist is that my companion and I? We're out of here. You want to come with?"

"Oh, sure Bankotsu. You can follow me."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Not hardly. **You **will be doing the following. Besides, I could take you with one hand tied behind my back."

"I doubt you could lift your-what'd you call it?- companion with one hand." he retorted.

I snarled and boldly lifted the weapon resting on my shoulder with only my right hand. "I'm right-handed, but I can lift halberd with y left, if you'd like," the comment was intended to cut.

Jakotsu pulled his sword out of it's comfortable resting place and lashed it down at me, in a way that suggested he wanted to punish me for being a bad kid. It was a simple thing to deflect it with banryu, it's size and width was just another strength. "Don't try to cross me, Jakotsu. I've no such thing as a conscious." _Lie. _I lashed back at him, purposely driving my weapon into the ground a few inches in front of his sandaled feet. "I don't particularly _want _to kill you. But I will."

He smiled again. Was he always smiling? It was rather unnerving. Not that I would show it bothered me. If I couldn't control him I'd kill him, and there would be number one for my count. I saw Jakotsu pulling back his arm, and I saw the demon sneak up behind him and launch itself. My only decision was; him, or the demon?

Pulling my halberd out of the ground I side-stepped Jakotsu as his snake-like sword was whipped once again out into open air. I kicked the back of his knee, causing him to collapse to the ground. One slice, and the demon dissipated.

Jakotsu, sprawled on the ground, gasped. I must've knocked the wind out of him. Oh, well. He would thank me later. That stupid thing probably would have burrowed itself right through one side of his gut and out the other. I grinned at him and said, not without pride, "One."

The traveling man, with his strange ways and attire, grunted as he picked himself up off the ground. I expected him to question me, maybe declare my insanity. Either way, I was completely prepared to explain myself, if it was necessary.

"Maybe you should lead, after all."


End file.
